


The Promise of Spring

by silentpoints



Series: compliancy [3]
Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Naruto
Genre: Awkward Romance, Blank Period, Canon Compliant, F/M, Poetry, Romantic Fluff, SasuSaku Month 2019, Stars, Tumblr: sasusakumonth, ssm19
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-08 05:16:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19864120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentpoints/pseuds/silentpoints
Summary: “Maybe,” she starts, unsure and timid, “You can even write a poem about me...?”[ssm19 prompt 20: Something New]





	The Promise of Spring

**Author's Note:**

> A short entry for SasuSaku Month 2019! I kind of suck, so I haven't participated so far, but I hope you enjoy this short one-shot! Reviews are really appreciated!

❝ Haruno Sakura—who, no matter how many times he coldly pushed her away, loved him earnestly, trying to give Sasuke’s freezing heart the spring sunlight. ❞

—Akatsuki Hiden

★

“Anata?”

Sasuke grunts, contrasting eyes shifting to glance at his companion through thick, inky bangs.

For their travels, Sasuke and Sakura are in the outskirts of the Land of Fire, buried deep in a forested area consumed by mighty trees, the greenery stretching for miles in every direction.

It’s past midnight, and above them are bright stars filling the never-ending sky. The stars—they promise light in the darkness, similarly to how an approaching spring promises warmth in the cold hollows of winter.

Sakura is staring up at the stars. Her eyes were previously filled with wander at the breathtaking sight above them; now, that wander has slowly morphed into curiosity, he realizes, as she begins to lie down on her side to face him, repositioning herself underneath their shared blanket.

“What do you like to do for fun?” she inquires, analyzing him through green irises, stirring with anticipation at his answer.

Sasuke blinks. “For fun?” he repeats dully, and the woman nods.

He ponders on the question for a moment, before replying:

“I like to train.”

Sakura’s face twitches.

He pretends not to notice, one side of his lips jerking minutely, mimicking a lopsided smile.

“That doesn’t count,” she states, voice patient, and sweet like honey. “I mean _real_ fun, you know? For example, I like to play trivia games, and Kakashi-sensei likes to read those perverted books, and, oddly enough, Naruto likes to water plants.”

Sasuke hums, thinking.

He doesn’t really have any non-shinobi-based activities he partakes in during his free time. Even as a child, “fun” was training with his brother, or scrambling to get stronger to impress his father; as he grew older, “fun” was the adrenaline rush he got when he beat someone in battle, or when he perfected a new jutsu.

He purses his lips, before weakly offering, “I like to take walks.”

Sakura’s skin shines under the moonlight, and her smile is more brilliant than her sparkling irises. “That’s great!” she says excitedly. “What do you like about taking walks?”

“...The outside.”

“The outside,” she repeats, encouraging him to continue, beaming.

Sasuke sighs. “Yes,” he says, reluctantly elaborating. “Things like how the stars shine the brightest in the darkest of nights, and how liberating the breeze feels when rainfall has ended.”

There is a pause, and he doesn’t dare to glance at Sakura. He clenches the grass beneath him uneasily, waiting for her reaction.

Her breath brushes his cheeks as she exhales.

“That’s beautiful,” she says, and he tilts his head to meet her awe-stricken gaze. “You know, you really have a way with words, Sasuke-kun.”

Suddenly, it’s as if she has an idea that cannot be ignored.

“I know!” she declares. “You should try something new... something like poetry! It can be your new hobby!”

He arches an eyebrow, before shaking his head. He can’t imagine himself— _the_ Uchiha Sasuke, who for years was labeled a dangerous renegade—sitting on a desk, mulling and agonizing over the best way to word his deep-rooted traumas, persistent fears, and biggest regrets.

Sakura pouts. “Come on...” she begins, before a deep blush slithers across her cheeks. “Maybe,” she starts, unsure and timid, “You can even write a poem about me...?”

He’s tempted to straight-up reject the absurd idea, but then he sees the hopeful look on her face, and his eyes soften.

Her mouth quivers, and clearly, she’s suddenly insecure about her request—

“Maybe,” Sasuke essentially affirms.

—And she beams. “What would you compare me to...?” Sakura pushes.

“The spring, after the cold of the winter,” he says, not having to think about it, because unbeknownst to her, he’s thought about this enough times for it to be automatic.

Pause.

Sasuke feels the tips of his ears turn hot, before he clumsily turns to lie on his side, back facing her. “Goodnight, Sakura,” he says. 

Pause.

Sakura shifts closer to him, and she hugs him from behind, arms warm—the warmth of spring after the winter, he thinks. Sasuke feels her grin against his back, and the sensation travels up his spine.

“Goodnight, Anata.”


End file.
